


Knitted Dragon's Lair

by mothermalfoy (MsLyraMalfoy)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Knitting, M/M, Post War, cute knitted things, yarn shop owner Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 04:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20464751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsLyraMalfoy/pseuds/mothermalfoy
Summary: Whatever Harry Potter had expected, running into Draco Malfoy at a yarn shop in Diagon Alley was never it. Especially not with Draco as the owner of said shop that also catered to Muggles. But Hermione's dragged him in, and now he's a little curious. About this new Draco, and the shop.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on an anon ask on my Tumblr.

“Come on ‘Mione, you can’t possibly expect me to want to go into _that_ place do you?” Harry complained.

Hermione shook her head all but dragging him along, “You promised me you would take this seriously!” she said.

“I am taking it seriously. But how in the bloody hell is knitting supposed to help with my therapy?” Harry asked. Hermione sighed, shaking her head as she pulled him towards the small yarn shop at the end of Diagon Alley. It was a cozy looking shop from the outside. With a small black cat sitting in the window, beside a display of several large balls of yarn and knitting needles that were currently knitting by themselves.

“Just come on,” Hermione hissed, pulling him through the slim white door and into the shop. A bell tinkled overhead and the shop keeper turned towards them. Harry sucked in a breath, while Hermione gasped.

“Welcome to the Knitted Dragon’s Lair,” Draco Malfoy said. Whoever either Harry or Hermione had been expecting to own such a shop, Draco was never at the top of their list. Hermione smiled, elbowing Harry in the ribs.

“Ow, what the hell was that for?” he hissed.

“Be nice,” she said under her breath. Harry rubbed his ribs, and looked around the rest of the shop, trying not to stare at the blond in question. He hated how bloody good he looked.

“We were wondering if you could help us find…” Hermione began.

“No playing with the yarn Harold,” Draco said.

Harry turned, looking rather guilty as he held up a ball of yarn. Draco moved past him, holding a spray bottle, and sprayed the black cat who was currently batting a ball of yarn in the window

“Sorry, what were you saying?” Draco asked turning back to Hermione then.

“You named your cat after me?” Harry asked suddenly.

“His name is Harold, last I checked Potter, yours was not,” Draco replied.

“Harold is typically the long-form from which Harry comes,” Harry said.

“Is it? Hmm? I don’t suppose I ever knew that.” Draco said with a shrug.

“Yes well, all this talk of the etymology of names is lovely, however, I was hoping you could help us with a good beginning yarn.”

Draco eyed Hermione then. “What sort of weight would you like?”

“Erm,” Hermione looked sheepishly at Harry, then at Draco. “I’m not sure.”

“Well, what sort of project are you hoping to make?”

“A blanket maybe?” Hermione asked. “Or a jumper? Molly was always great at jumpers.”

“That’s a bit adventurous for a first timer. Blankets are easier but a bit tedious for your first time out.”

“What would you suggest then?” Harry asked.

“A scarf is always a good place to start. I find a heavyweight yarn is always good for a beginner. Something in a wool, size 12 needles maybe. They’re thick, _but _it makes it easier to see your mistakes.”

“Perfect,” Hermione said with a smile.

“Right what colors were you wanting, we have a wide variety of both magical made and Muggle made wools that come in an array of colors.”

“What would you suggest?” she asked.

“Well it’s your project, you have to like the color. I’m partial to a bit of an emerald green myself, or a nice dark purple. We also have some blends of colors if you want more of a rainbow scarf.”

Harry couldn’t help but stare at Draco as he spoke, it was strange to think of how quickly he had turned his life around. Less than a year ago, he had been on trial for his life for being a Death Eater and now, here he was, owning a shop in Diagon Alley.

“Or if you’d like we have a few crimson and gold, I’m sure you two would be very familiar,” Draco said.

“No that’s… perfectly fine. Um, do you have anything in a blue perhaps?” Hermione asked.

Draco smiled, and showed her to where the heavy wool yarns were, and where she could find the knitting needles she was needing. Harry hated to admit it, but Draco was actually helpful, if a bit snobbish about yarn which he hadn’t quite expected but then it _was _Draco Malfoy after all Harry supposed. Harry sighed, standing at the front of the register when he heard the bell tinkle again, “Oh dear, I’m not late for the knitting club am I?” asked an older woman’s voice from behind him. Harry turned.

“Er… no he’s helping someone find some yarn,” Harry replied.

“Awe, how lovely. That’s our Draco, always helping out his customers,” she said with a kind smile. Harry would have laughed, the thought of Draco helping anyone seemed almost absurd, but he did seem different. The woman sighed then, “Such a lovely shop isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Harry said with a smile as he looked around. It was surprisingly Muggle, save for the knitting needles that were knitting of their own accord in the shop window.

“It’s just too bad you know,” the woman said. “After all he’s been through, and the grief the Wizengamot put him through for this shop,” she said with a tsk. “He’s worked so hard to show he’s a different person, and at least twice a week someone throws a brick through his shop window,” she shook her head. “Not that the Ministry cares a lick what happens to him. But I do wish he had someone to help him. Like that Muggle boy, what was his name…” she trailed off and Harry looked around,_ Hermione and Draco had been gone an awfully long time,_ he thought. 

“Oh I can’t remember,” she said. “He was such a lovely young fellow. Looked a bit like you actually. Draco always lit up when he came in. I think they were a couple you know. None of my business really. Only one day the boy stopped coming round, Draco would never talk about it. He never talks about anything to do with his personal life. You know that sort of thing. But…” she sighed. “I do so wish he had someone to look after him. Besides old Harold over there.”

Harry merely smiled nervously entirely unsure of what to say. Just then, Draco and Hermione returned, carrying several large balls of yarn each in a variety of colors. And two sets of needles. Harry stared at Hermione.

“Hello Gertrude,” Draco said with a smile at the women who was standing behind Harry’s back.

“I’m not late for the knitting club am I?” she asked.

“Nope, in fact, I was just about to close up shop after this purchase so everyone can get here. Ethel rang and said she’d be here in a bit, she needed to stop for a bit of petrol.” Gertrude nodded. “The chairs are all set up in the back though, you’re welcome to sit down.”

“Petrol?” Hermione repeated, as Draco rang up her purchases.

“Knitted Dragon’s Lair serves both Muggle and Magical customers,” Draco said.

“Oh,” Harry said.

“I rather prefer the Muggles ironically,” Draco said quietly. “They ask fewer stupid questions. Right well, that’ll be two hundred and seventy-one galleons, and three knuts.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Bloody hell ‘Mione did you buy the whole place out?”

“Hardly,” Draco and Hermione said in unison.

“A knitting club sounds fabulous though, do you suppose we might be able to join you next time? You know, once we’ve got our skills together?” Hermione asked.

Draco shrugged, “If you wanted. We hold them twice a month, the first Saturday and the third Saturday. Most of my clientele are Muggles so I’ll ask you kindly not to knit with magic. That does sort of defeat the purpose.”

Hermione nodded. “Yes of course, thank you again,” she said. Draco bagged up the last of her purchases and handed the bags over to her and Harry.

Harry swallowed, taking the proffered bag, and turned around, not sure what to make of the whole experience.

“Did you know Malfoy was gay?” Harry asked when they had stepped out of the shop.

“No, what gave you that impression? Just because he owns a yarn shop?”

“No, the lady back there. Gertrude, said there used to be a Muggle boy who came in the shop, she said she thought they were together or something. I wonder whatever happened to him,” Harry left out the bit about how he looked like him. He didn’t really know what to make of that. It was odd enough that Draco had virtually named his cat after him, let alone might be dating his doppelganger.

Hermione shrugged. “I wouldn’t be all that surprised,” she admitted. Harry considered this. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do with the information exactly, but it was interesting all the same.

“Come on, let’s get back home, I’m eager to start learning this,” she said. “He made it sound rather fun.”

“Had a good conversation with Malfoy did you?” Harry asked.

“Yes actually,” Hermione said with a smile. “He’s rather sweet when he’s not calling me a mudblood.”

At this Harry laughed. “Draco Malfoy, sweet. What a horrifying thought,” he said, and with that, the two of them apparated away back to Grimmauld Place. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what can I say, something about this story called me to write more.

Harry had spent the better part of the last two weeks teaching himself how to knit online. Hermione had been next to no help and after insisting she would _love _to attend the knitting club had found herself throwing her needles into the bin after a week.

"It's absurd. You're supposed to just knit an entire row, then change it and knit backward, but you can't knit backward because if you change hands I don't know what I'm doing!" Hermione had groaned. "How are you coming along with it Harry?" she asked.

Harry didn't want to admit to his best friend that he'd been handling it really well. Once he got the hang of purling (which admittedly was a bit difficult) everything had just fallen together. Instead, he poured her a cup of tea while he tried to figure out the best way to gently reply. "Oh you know," he said with a shrug. "It's a struggle, but I think I feel better for it.” Hermione smiled.

"Glad to hear it," she said.

"Have you… heard from Ron lately?" Harry asked, carefully.

"If I had I would have said so," she replied, taking a measured sip of tea. Harry nodded. Ron had buggered off to America after the war. Losing Fred had been far too much for the family. George was inconsolable and Ron had simply taken off. Not that Harry could blame him. He had wanted to run away himself. Disappear into the Scottish highlands and reappear as the new games keeper at Hogwarts, but no such luck. Hermione had moved in with him in Grimmauld Place almost immediately and Harry had found it impossible to even _think _of escaping.

In the early days, he had taken to drinking anything he could get his hands on. It didn't take long for Hermione to catch wind of this and become furious enough that she dragged him into a proper therapists office the very next day. Harry was grateful to her of course, though he worried about her. She had thrown herself headfirst into the Ministry. She had been working for the Wizengamot for several months now and all in all, she seemed miserable.

"Are you going to go back for the knitting club?" Hermione asked, changing the subject and effectively knocking Harry out of his thoughts.

"Dunno. I don't really want to embarrass myself in front of a bunch of old Muggles," he admitted.

Hermione smiled, "You should go. Make new friends. You can't stay cooped up in this old house with me forever," she said.

"Friends. With who exactly? One of the hundred-year-old Muggles that Malfoy is friends with, or Malfoy himself?"

Hermione shrugged, "Stranger things have happened. So you won't get a date out of it. It's not so bad to be friends with older people."

Harry snorted, "Easy for you to say."

*

Harry sighed, as he stood in the warm August air, in front of the Knitted Dragon's Lair wondering not for the first time what he was doing there exactly. He hadn't even _wanted _to knit, and now he was going to some silly club just because Hermione had told him too? He groaned, turning around about to leave.

"Oh dear, are you leaving?" Gertrude said as she made her way up to the shop. "You'll miss the knitting club. Come on now. Draco would be terribly disappointed if you don't come."

_Would he? _Harry wondered. That certainly didn't sound like him. "He was telling me how you two knew each other at school," Gertrude whispered as she ushered him inside the shop. "Of course, I gather you weren't exactly close. Which is just as well. But," she paused mid-stride forcing Harry to stop with her and turned to face him. "Draco hasn't been the same since that Muggle boy left. Frankly, I haven't seen his eyes light up like that in… it feels like forever. I sort of see him as my adopted grandchild. I lost my daughter in the war, and well… my chances of ever having grandchildren are gone now. That little ray of sunshine is the closest I have to it," Gertrude sniffled, looking as though she might cry. Harry worried his lower lip, desperately praying that Draco would save him.

"Oh, Gertrude, you made it. So glad to see you," Draco said appearing suddenly behind her. Gertrude turned then, smiling as she made her way over to the blond and hugged him tightly. In all the time Harry had known him, he had only seen Draco receive one other hug, a rather uncomfortable one from Lord Voldemort that looked rather more like he was preparing to Avada Kedavra anyone who dared get near them. Harry shivered at the thought.

"Oh good, you made it as well then. Granger couldn't make it?"

"No, she uh, got caught up at work."

"Ah well… the elf world can't save itself I suppose," Draco replied. Harry chuckled a little at that, though he felt immediately guilty for it. "What about you? Don't you have some Auror business to be attending to? Some Ministry function in your honor? Some kittens to save from a tree?"

"That's firemen," Harry said.

Draco shrugged, "Yes well, a hero's work is never done," he said as he made his way towards the back room. It was quiet and comfortable, with several dozen chairs all in a circle, with several mostly older women sitting in them. Harry took the seat directly beside Gertrude, which happened to also be, beside Draco. He swallowed nervously. _This was a mistake_, he thought. "Thank you all for coming today," Draco said when the last chair was full. "We have a new member here today, Harry," he turned to Harry with a smile. "Would you care to introduce yourself?" Harry shook his head. "Don't be shy." Harry shook his head harder, his face burning from all the eyes staring at him. "Well suffice it to say we went to school together, we weren't friendly, and that's just as much my fault as it was his but… no matter. So… who would like to share something new in their lives, hmm?" Draco asked.

"Draco runs the knitting club a little bit like a therapy session," Gertrude said, leaning over to whisper in Harry's ear. “Everybody knits and chats, and shares things that are going on in their lives."

"Oh," Harry said. He wasn't sure what he had expected of a knitting club, but he suddenly felt rather uncomfortable.

"Just as a reminder, we'll be starting work next session on our annual winter knit-a-thon," Draco said.

"Winter knit-a-thon? It's September," Harry said, leaning over to Gertrude.

"Every year we knit hats, gloves, scarves, blankets, and jumpers for people in need. Draco makes sure there's enough so that half can go to homeless gay youths in the Muggle community, and the other half goes to the war orphanage. You wouldn't believe the amount of time and money that boy has donated to them," she said.

Harry eyed Draco, watching his pale, slim fingers working the yarn. Wrapping the wool around the right-hand needle and slipping it off the left needle, before he slipped it back through the stitch and began all over again. It was mesmerizing how quickly Draco's fingers could work the yarn from one side to the other.

"What stitch is he doing?" Harry asked, watching as Draco knit two stitches, then switched the yarn to the other side to purl two stitches and back again.

"Ribbed stitch. For jumpers mostly, but you can do them for anything. It creates a really beautiful pattern on both sides, as opposed to the stockinette which only creates it on the one side." Harry had only just come to understand the stockinette stitch properly and he wasn't entirely certain he was ready for any more advanced stitches just yet.

Harry struggled to pull his eyes away from Draco's deft fingers, _get a hold of yourself Potter, _his mind yelled. Shaking his head, Harry tore his eyes away from Draco's knitting and pulled his own from his bag, and began to work. It was comforting, Harry found. He mostly kept to himself and Gertrude, and he half-listened to some of the stories the women across from him were telling as they knitted, but mostly he watched his scarf grow and grow and felt rather proud of himself.

"Well that's all the time we have for this afternoon," Draco said with a smile. "Excellent work as always."

Harry frowned, "That's it?"

"Were you hoping for more?" Gertrude asked.

"How long were we here? Twenty minutes?"

"Try three hours," Gertrude said as she got to her feet.

"Three… that's impossible," Harry blinked, looking down at his wristwatch. Sure enough, it had been three whole hours. "It felt like nothing."

Gertrude smiled. "You should come back."

Harry considered this.

"So, did you enjoy yourself Potter?" Draco asked, as the room started to clear out.

"I did actually," he admitted. "I didn't expect to, but it was quite enjoyable."

"Well good, that's what we're here for," Draco replied with a smile.

Harry stared at him for a long moment, he wasn't sure what possessed him but before he could stop himself he found himself asking, "You wouldn't want to get a drink with me or something, would you?"

Draco eyed him, clearly as surprised as Harry was. "A drink?"

"Coffee, or tea or whatever," Harry said, blushing again. He had no idea what he was thinking, he didn't even… he shook his head. He wasn't sure how he felt about any of this.

"Sure, coffee or tea or whatever sounds lovely," Draco replied.

Harry grinned like an idiot and nodded. "Brilliant."

Draco laughed. "Just as eloquent as ever aren't you?"

"Shut it," Harry hissed.

Draco couldn't help but smile. "Oh but it's so much fun taking the piss." Harry rolled his eyes, he might have expected as much. "Just give me a few minutes to close up the shop and we can go," Draco said.

"Take all the time you need," Harry replied. Draco disappeared, back into the main storeroom, leaving Harry awkwardly alone. The rest of the women had cleared out, even Gertrude. Harry wasn't entirely sure what to do with himself, or even what the hell he was doing. He had just asked Draco Malfoy to coffee. Was it a date? Did either of them _do _dates? Harry had been too exhausted to even think about relationships, or what any of that meant for him after the war. Ginny had been devastated losing two brothers in the span of several days, and if he was honest Harry hadn't exactly been in the proper headspace to deal with a relationship either.

He had been avoiding the whole sexuality conversation with himself for the better part of the last few years now and it was far easier to just ignore it and date no one than actually admit to himself that he might like blokes more than any women he had dated thus far.

He didn't want to acknowledge it.

"Ready?" Draco said appearing in the doorway a few moments later. Harry nodded, somewhat nervously and followed him out of the shop. Draco locked up and the two made their way down Diagon Alley towards the tea shop. Harry didn't have the best memories of Madam Puddifoot's, but he supposed different circumstances might have a different outcome.

Sitting down for tea with Draco already felt like a considerably different thing from the last time he had been there. For one thing, Draco wasn't sobbing. Yet. And for another, he didn't feel as awkward with Draco as he had with Cho, which all things considered seemed ironic.

"What made you decide on a yarn shop of all things?" Harry asked after a moment. The question had been on his mind from the moment he had stepped foot into the store several weeks earlier.

Draco chuckled, and Harry found he rather liked that chuckle, though he didn't want to think too hard on that fact. "Well," Draco began. "Knitting was something I shared with my grandmother. Believe it or not, I did it a lot when the Manor was under Voldemort's control."

"Really?" Harry asked somewhat disbelieving.

"It was the only thing that could steady my nerves. It didn't always work, but sometimes…" he sighed. "After the war, I thought, I have a second chance, thanks to you. I can either use that to make people's lives better somehow, or I can hide away in the Manor for the rest of eternity. So… I sold it."

"You sold the Manor?" How hadn’t Harry heard about this? 

"My father went to prison and my mother went to France. I was never going to give them what they wanted, and the place was too… haunted. Too many bad nightmares running around. My greatest hope was that whoever bought it would demolish it. I took the money and bought a little place in London, starting meeting Muggles, making friends." Draco sighed. "Then I meet a man. Jake, an American, a good ole Southern boy as they say. He was sweet and funny, and terribly handsome."

"What happened?" Harry asked.

Draco sighed, "I told him I was a wizard. And he laughed. Thought I was joking. So, I said, 'I'll prove it to you.' and I did. I pulled out my wand and turned a bottle of gin into a chinchilla."

"And?"

"He accused me of consorting with the devil. Said I was going to hell, and he ran off," Draco laughed. Harry's eyes widened. "I wasn't particularly well versed in any of the spiritual teachings of Muggles, but I got a very quick lesson then. You know funny enough for some Muggles, being gay is a sin. Imagine that?"

Harry didn't have to imagine it. He had grown up with the Dursley's, and had heard all about his Uncle Vernon's thoughts on homosexuality. He shuddered to think about it.

"Anyway, the Ministry caught up with him and obliviated him, and I was almost sent to Azkaban both for violating my parole and breaking the Statute of Secrecy. If Granger hadn't bailed me out, I don't know what would have happened."

"She never told me that."

"She convinced the Wizengamot that I had suffered enough after I told my story. She said I had more than proven that I was not the person I once was and they dropped the charges."

Harry was impressed. "That's Hermione for you. Always trying to defend those in need."

Draco nodded, taking a sip of his tea. "Between the two of you, I feel like I'm kind of indebted."

Harry waved him off. "Don't be silly."

"What about you then? What's your story post-war? You were rather quiet during the knitting club."

"I wasn't sure how to tell a group of old Muggles that I saved the Wizarding World by killing a madman."

"I think saying you were in a war would have sufficed. Muggles have them all the time I understand."

Harry laughed, "Yes well, I suppose I should have just said that then. I guess I'm not really all that good at sharing," he admitted.

"I know how you feel," Draco said. "I'm not really good at sharing what's going on with me either."

"You seemed to do okay a few moments ago."

"I feel safe with you," Draco admitted. "It's absurd, isn't it? Of all the people I could possibly feel safe with it had to be you," he chuckled.

"What can I say, I give off the hero vibe."

Draco snorted, rolling his eyes, "And you killed it. Thanks for reminding me why we never got on."

"Oh stop. You know I'm just taking the piss. I never liked that hero crap. Honestly, one of the things I appreciate about you now, that I didn't then, is that you keep me grounded."

Draco smirked. "I'd hate for you to get a big head."

"Thanks."

"That said, your knitting skills were impressive."

"What can I say, I'm pretty good with my hands," Harry said with a shrug.

Draco laughed. "Is that so?"

"Oh yeah, I'm a master at finessing anything I want with these hands," he said flexing his arms, and showing off a bit of veins.

Draco swallowed hard. "Are you mocking me?"

"Pardon?" Harry asked.

"I came out to you, and was vulnerable with you. And I'm just trying to make sure that you're not taking the piss with me, by making suggestive comments and flexing your arms and showing off those delectable veins."

"Delectable… are you a vampire?"

"Bite me."

"I think that's your job Dracula," Harry teased.

"Oh I'd be more than happy to bite you," Draco growled.

Harry laughed, he didn't know why but he missed this back and forth with Malfoy. But something was different about it now. There was a certain sexual tension between them. Harry swallowed, his throat felt dry despite the tea. Draco's eyes darkened and Harry had the strange desire to drag him into the loo and snog his brains out.

"We should go," Draco said standing up fast.

"Your place or mine?" Harry asked.

"Mine's closer," Draco replied, dropping several galleons onto the table, and all but running out of Madam Puddifoot's. Harry ran after him, not sure what was about to happen next, but eager to find out all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't decided yet whether or not there will be more.


End file.
